sixthiteration | Test Drive 21 (October & November)

→ Holds and applications are always open. Holds are required for all applications.

→ Choose one of the scenarios below or make up your own. Feel free to try multiple scenarios.

→ Write LOGS or TEXT prompts, or both.

→ THERE ARE ONLY THREE RULES FOR THE TDM:

1. It has to take place in the 6I universe.
2. It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
3. Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

→ TDM threads cannot be used to meet AC, but if the character is accepted into the game and both players agree, you may keep the CR.

→ Character want ads are here.

Prompts

STAYING POWER - Go down to the bunker, they said. You can get yourself amazing powers from the vending machine, they said. Well, you've done that, and you've made your choice, but one thing nobody told you was that unless it's a power you're familiar with, you might be on a teensy bit of a learning curve when it comes to keeping it under control. You have a week to figure it out without killing anyone; have fun!

FORGIVE AND... - You poor thing, you've gotten into some dust moths. Not that you can remember that, because depending on how big that swarm was and how quickly you got out of it, you might not remember much at all. Better hope somebody's got some Forget Me Nots on hand.

HIT & RUN - Life in the village can be pretty sleepy... until suddenly, it's not. Were you being a troublemaker? Were you disturbing the local wildlife? Because it's now disturbing you, chasing you down the street in front of everyone. Maybe it's a herd of chupapaca or a swarm of fireflies. Or maybe you went old school and it's just a really pissed off badger. Godspeed and good luck.

WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Texts

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text messages to other villagers.

- Texts may only be 140 characters long
- No video or voice, text only
- Display names may be changed by characters on the fly, but anyone can tap to see someone's real full name

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT in your SUBJECT LINE.

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A lack of control in powers is one thing in this place that somehow Jacob has learned a lesson from. If by learned one understands that he just hasn't done it yet, not that he won't despite all he's seen from others. For now though, he's still trying to survive from the acts of others.

Which is really a delightful turn around from being the one subjecting his sister to so many of the things where he rushes in where angels fear to tread.

The thing is, angels fear to tread into Hell, and with good reason. Flames.

So when strolling along turns into a sudden wash of flames before him, Jacob reacts rather than acting. Spinning away, ducking down and lashing out with one foot almost blindly and probably not nearly close enough to hit anyone.

"Sir? Are you quite all right?"

There's a young woman with an English accent and dark hair pinned up off her neck, close enough to be within conversation range but not so close she's in his personal space — sensible enough to be cautious, as well as not wanting to spook him — watching him with an expression of obvious concern. Evie doesn't know him, but she sees the look on his face and the way he's wandering about as if lost, and that's really all it takes. For someone who spent a great deal of her time back home killing people, she's really remarkably altruistic.

Evie learnt some time ago she can't help everyone who crosses her path, no matter how much she might want to; trying to act as if she can is a recipe for trouble. But today, right now, she can help this one man, and maybe she can do him some good.

Fuck yes. To the poker game, I don't have any cards otherwise I would've already done it.

It's not very often that the Doctor isn't the one to be leading, when it comes to running away from something. But she doesn't complain either when Clara takes her had and heads off. Just because it's not something that happens to her very often doesn't mean that it's any less fun. In fact it might be more so for being so rare, and she follows along without so much as a second thought.

(Eventually she'll catch on to the fact that she does actually recognize Clara. Right now, she's a little more focused on the sheer thrill of running. Even if Clara's point is a very good one.)

"Exactly! Although I think technically they're the ones giving chase. We're just giving them something to chase."

Crowds are good sources of information, the Doctor has to agree. Admittedly, if you're looking for a specific bit of information it can be a little hit or miss, but it's not too bad for a general idea of how things happen to be going. Provided one isn't particularly incline to simply go up and ask people, but it's not like she's unaware of the fact that her methods of doing things aren't necessarily everyone else's way of doing things.

That particular point, however, is rather moot. Largely because there's not really anything she's looking for at the moment, but also because she'd just nearly beaned someone in the head with a book.

"Sorry about that," she answers, as she takes the book back, completely ignoring the accompanying wink. "It wasn't exactly meant to be one, but well. New abilities. Bound to be a little fiddly at first."

And when their new owner happens to be at least a little bit distractible, though she might not actually say as much.

The tree they both stood at the foot of was...

In a word, it was magnificent. There were orchards in the Levant, certainly, and a smattering of evergreens, but the whole of this place was so green that, from time to time, Altaïr kept finding himself amazed. The skinny poplars of Masyaf had nothing on these trees, and that meant one thing:

Practice.

"These are more like the trees of your land, aren't they?" he mused, reaching out to rest his five-fingered hand against the trunk. The branches were thick, certainly thick enough to hold weight, and the bark was rough enough to give fingerholds and grip for feet, but with how widely spaced they were, practice would absolutely be necessary.

[Just dropping in to completely OOCly kermitflail because YAY EVIE]

As much as Kurt misses teleporting, he has not quite brought himself to try vending-machine super-powers.

Sure, he's still blue and fuzzy- though the fur doesn't quite bend the shadows around him as well as it used to. He's more like a particularly stealthy black cat now, indigo fur being pretty stealthy on its own in low light.

With his tail and bone structure, though, he at least still has his balance and flexibility, which has been very much a comfort. It's also allowed him to, if not cling to the walls, at least scale them fairly easily. Which is why he's on the rooftop of a building towards the edge of the village when Zevran gives him a taste of his own medicine.

His movements aren't entirely unlike a startled cat hopping up and turning to face the-

other teleporting elf.

"Well. This is surprising. I'm normally the one surprising people this way," he blurts out. His voice is accented, though it's nothing like Orlesian or Ferelden accents. Something more gutteral, but it's clear he's had a lot of experience with the common human tongue despite being very obviously not human. The prominent pointed canines don't even seem to affect his speech at all, either.

"Merda santa-" Strange enough to be popping into existence on a roof with a fairly decent fall before him- but to come face to face with a demon? He'd been expecting something of the sort since he woke, though this place is not quite like the fade he remembers-

And normally the sky is more...swimmy when demons are about. Or there is less polite conversation and more attempts at murder.

He keeps his smile bright, however, as he attempts to recover himself. Being rude to demons only ever ends badly- so long as he does not promise his soul? He should survive. "So perhaps you know how I could, ah- stop? I am trying to get the hang of this skill and it is very particular- or should I say not particular enough as to what thought would have me leaping from one place to another."

"Sorry."

He doesn't look especially sorry, but he's also not visibly pleased with himself for startling her, so how much the surprise appearance was intentional is up in the air. If anything, he seems more curious about where he's ended up, glancing up at the trees and listening out for anything familiar.

"Still working out the kinks."

To what, he doesn't say.

Satisfied that this is part of the forest he's never been to before, he turns back to Karen.

"Looking for something?"

Ron's attention snaps to Evie immediately, staring at her almost without blinking. Being in control, doing whatever has to be done, all of that comes so naturally to him, so he doesn't look scared or unsettled, really, but there's a tenseness in his shoulders and expression and a certain suspicion in his voice when he speaks.

"What is this place?"

shouldn't be too hard to find materials to make some.

[STAYING POWER/HIT & RUN.]

He just...missed flying. That's all. There's nothing quite like being up in the sky, above everything, the weightlessness that comes with soaring over treetops. He'd just wanted that feeling back, just for a little while. And at first, it was great. It was fantastic, even, and despite the chill in the air and the numbness of his fingers, Billy was reluctant to stop.

Of course, that was before he flew just a little too close to that treetop and a little too close to that archaeopteryx nest. One of the two had circled back after the first minute or two, but the second is still shrieking as it hurtles towards Billy, and he's not gonna be outflying it for very long. Angling towards the ground, he starts searching frantically for cover, something to duck under or around to dodge the angry bird.

"Pleasedonteatme, pleasedonteatme--"

His magic doesn't work anymore, but that doesn't mean the habit of chanting is easy to break.

"Pleasedonteatme--hey, watch out--!"

That would be a terrified looking brunette catapulting out of the sky right at you. Sorry about your imminent bruises, stranger.

[FORGIVE AND...]

Gosh. This little glade is really pretty, isn't it? Billy isn't sure how he ended up here, but there's a nice little stream musically tinkling over a small set of rapids, glinting over sparkling stone, and a bunch of wildflowers sprouting all along its banks. Somewhere in the trees overhead, birds are singing, too. Gosh. Real birds. When was the last time he heard those? He can't quite remember that, either. He isn't sure how long he's been sitting on this log, but it's pretty comfortable, and he doesn't mind sitting a while longer.

"Teddy would love this," he says softly out loud, but the words bring the first hint of a frown to his face. Huh. That's strange. "Wait, who's Teddy?"
There's a rustling in the bushes behind him, the sound of footsteps, but that's good. Maybe they'll have answers. Billy turns to look at the newcomer, offering a smile.

"Hey--do you know anyone named Teddy?"

[TEXT.]

un: actualwizard666
Group poll: If you had to choose your own hero name, what would you choose and why? If you already have one, you can pick a new one if you want!

Tommy isn’t really following Billy - it just so happens that he likes this patch of outdoors too. It’s peaceful, and a speedster’s unaccustomed to taking time to stop and smell the flowers, so to speak, so it’s an interesting change.

Billy’s question causes Tommy’s face to scrunch up in confusion. Billy doesn’t remember Teddy? How the hell could that happen?

“Uh ... you’re kidding, right? You know I know Teddy.” Tommy squints at his twin. “Is this some kind of getting-over-a-breakup thing?”

Edited 2018-11-05 18:04 (UTC)

Ah. Yes, well, I will be the first to tell anyone to simply be themselves.

We don't. But I don't see a direct need for a standing militia.

Which is probably for the best, honestly, considering that 'anyone' is built like a brick house and likely would have hurt Jacob's foot far worse than it hurt him. It would have made a pretty entertaining story, though.

Connor had been trying - and the keyword here really is trying - to concentrate on creating a tiny little ball of fire no bigger than his palm. Start small, perhaps, and then slowly work his way up. Only this wasn't small or slow and suddenly there was a wall of flame before him taller than he was.

It dissipates quickly, however, mostly due to his own surprise at having created anything quite that spectacular, only to spot the unlucky victim who had been trapped on the other side.

"Sorry." It sounds sincere enough, even if it hardly makes up for almost setting someone on fire.

While the tree they had chosen was perhaps a little bit higher and more difficult than he would have recommended for someone used to skinny little sticks blossoming up from the ground, it was the one with the sturdiest branches and the most footholds. It would prove little challenge for him considering how closely it resembled the trees that grew around his village and the homestead.

"Yes. They resemble them closely." They even seemed to bloom the same bright green. "I am certain you will catch on quickly. It is not difficult once you get used to it."

Kurt sighs a little at the cursing, but the man is clearly old enough that his inner high school teacher doesn't manifest itself in a scolding. He understands the reaction to his appearance, and tends not to hold people's initial impressions of him against them. It takes time to appreciate a form as uniquely fantastic as his in such an anti-elf-biased world.

Or worlds, perhaps, considering their present location.

He gives Zevran his best reassuring smile, fangs and all.

"Well, I would advise keeping yourself focused on where you want to be, and make sure it is somewhere you know or can see. You do not want to teleport into a wall," he advises, taking a cautious few steps back for the other man's comfort, tail tucking close around his body. "If you have trouble stopping it, try, perhaps, focusing on two locations within eyeline of each other, and focus on simply switching between them."

Jacob hears many bemoan the lack of amenities. The hot and cold running water they're used to, means of cooling and heating themselves without the rolling black smoke he thinks common for the latter. Refrigeration, and transportation, and communication devices that make the wristlets they wear seem to be nothing more than worthless baubles.

More often than not it is those talks that drive him up the rooftops. A place where he can look to the trees that stretched towards the sky, and breathe in ways never possible before. In a heartbeat, without hesitation, he could go back to London. Yet he would miss this air, the color of the sky, long before he missed a steamy bath that could be had without the work of heating the water.

If only to be far enough off the ground that you're more perched bird than human, and even when people look up, they can never find you unless they know just where to look.

"Anyone that will apparently make gifts all for the price of acquiring items for him is entirely the perfect person to get on their good side. I feel so damn naked here all the time," he says, tugging at the short jacket he had snagged from the store room, that might conceal a few things but certain't wasn't either useful or fashionable.

"Isn't that the truth," he says, sighing heavily as he turns, looking out over the village. "Some days I think it's more than hiding it from us. It's as if somehow it's all in a bubble and whatever the truth is doesn't exist. And those computers, and the lists..." He shakes his head, glancing over his shoulder at Evie with a sly smile. "I will assume by now you've looked them over?"

Okay, so he knew about them but that kind of research just is not him. Which is why he kind of left it after inspecting the machine for abilities, assuming Evie would do as she always did.

Forgive and Forget

There is dust on his fur. And his clothing. His unfamiliar clothing- were these medical scrubs? Why on earth is he wearing medical scrubs in the wilderness?

Wait.

Does this Wilderness look Canadian? It's certainly chilly enough.

Oh sheisse, it's Canada, isn't it? The last time he was in Canada, the entire country turned into flesh-eating monsters! The X-Men have very specific rules, and one of those rules that everyone but Logan does their best to follow, and one of the earliest on the list is don't go to Canada if you can help it.

He springs to his feet and-

Does not bamf. He does not bamf.

Now he's panicking a little. Medical scrubs, power loss and something Canadian Wilderness-ish screams some idiot's trying some foolish Weapon X reboot and have decided a teleporting killing machine is a good idea.

Wildcard

With no formal church in the village, Kurt has taken to spending his Sunday mornings in quiet contemplation with a rosary and prayer book that arrived in one of his "gift" boxes. It's a common enough scene, the fuzzy blue elf quietly creeping to a quiet corner of the village.

His head is bowed in mid-prayer when he hears someone else's footsteps. "O Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love, for it is in giving that one receives-"

Yellow eyes flash in the dim winter morning light when he turns around, and quickly crosses himself out of habit when he stands, despite the lack of pews to leave.

"I'm sorry if this isn't a good place, I can go somewhere else if you like."

Religious is a foreign concept to Squall. His world has nothing even approaching it. There was Hyne, the powerful diety who created mankind and left his powers to the sorceresses, but he was more of a vengeful figure because humans had grown too overpopulated, at least according to legends. Squall wasn't even sure if that were all true, but true or not, nobody was worshiping him.

So when he happened to interrupt Kurt's prayers, Squall didn't know what to say. He shook his head, though.

"You were here first. I was just looking for somewhere quiet to think. I'll just pass through." But Squall's expression is clearly puzzled about the book, rosary, and gesture.

"Nein, it's alright, if I am not too much of a distraction, you're welcome to stay," says the fuzzy blue man. "I can pray in silence if you prefer. I suppose I only do it out loud out of habit," he says with a humble, fanged smile.

"I have friends capable of hearing me when I don't speak, I can't imagine God isn't capable of it either."

There was a sense that a joe developed in combat, or at least a joe who wanted to stay alive might develop it. It wasn't paranoia when there really were plenty of people who wanted to kill him, after all.

What that sense meant was that when he sort of ... felt ... someone behind him, he turned as quickly as his crutch would allow.

"Can I help you?" he asked the fella.

There were a lot of words Squall didn't understand, which was a part of this whole world-combination thing. Nein. Pray. God. And although Squall didn't tend to be nosy out of curiosity, he did need to know what was going on.

"You're not a distraction, but...pray? What exactly are you doing?" Even the thought of telepathy wasn't confusing to him. Sorceresses had all sorts of dangerous powers. His consciousness had been sent back in time into someone else's body. That wasn't weird.

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Page 21 of 39

Test Drive 21 (October & November)

Staying Power

forgive and...

un: hawke

Apologies for the delay here

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Wildcard because hiiiiiiiiiiii

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Staying Power

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Billy Kaplan | Young Avengers

forgive???

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Excuse me you can't just do what you want

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I am so new to this, and so in love with Jacob, and should not but likely will app him next month

Nightcrawler * Marvel Comics

wildcard

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Staying Power

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